Tuesday, November 28, 2023
I was at work today, talking to Keith at lunch and singing the I’m Cold song. You know the one, the one where I sing quietly (I’m cold I’m cold I’m cold) while he is talking about something of substance. (That brings up another important song that hasn’t been written yet. It’s theme is about multiplying and dividing positive and negative numbers and it should be for toddlers. They should learn it – have it tattoed on their brains – before they ever even start math – because not knowing it in middle school is very frustrating. I don’t even know how to condense adding and subtracting positive and negative numbers, but that little ditty would be worth its weight in gold.) (I was in math today.)
Anyway, I was cold. Because now in addition to being HOT fairly often, I am also COLD. Ew. I was off the phone and hopped out into the hall to be all welcoming and whatnot and I said to the teacher across the hall, “I’m cold.” She nodded her head agreeably and said, “It’s cold in there. Turn on the space heater.”
Um.
OH! The space heater DIRECTLY BEHIND the chair I sat in during prep and lunch and from which I sang the I’m Cold song? That space heater?
It was so heater-y and delightful. I rotisseried myself slowly while the class got started on their slope worksheet.
I also found I could put a giant protractor on the smart board and move the angles. It was great. No one cared, because we were not doing anything with angles, but I enjoyed it thoroughly. Periodically, it was just time to change the angles. Such fun.
Keith and I made turkey soup for dinner. We spent A LOT of time doctoring up the broth I made and adding veg and turkey and a few noodles. More spices. Different spices. A little chicken bouillon. More pepper. More thyme. Mmm. Try this. Add that. And then we finally scooped it up and ate some and it was TERRIFIC. What the heck? How did that happen? Keith went for more and I said I’d have another bucket. A lifter bucket more. (You know, ladle.) I had seconds. I never have seconds on my own cooking. Win.
We went to see the movie Next Goal Wins, about the worst soccer team. It was based on a true story of the American Samoan soccer team, and I laughed out loud (SO loud) so many times, plus gave one hearty (jump scare) scream. Good times.